The ravine’s shadows cloaked Grendolf, Sylvara, Kaelith, and Myra as they fled the Canid camp, the rescued kits—including Tiro—huddled in the creaking wagon. Starclaw pulsed in Grendolf’s grip, its evolved runes glowing with Starstrike, Foresight Veil, and Blade Dance. Sylvara’s Bloodfang flickered crimson, while Kaelith’s claw-like hand steadied the kits, its clear eyes vigilant. Myra clutched her star-runed dagger, her hybrid face fierce despite the curse that left them all with cat ears atop human-like skin. The Canids’ howls, led by Kravos, echoed in pursuit, but a greater concern loomed: Eldervale’s fate.

The village’s smoldering ruins came into view, its huts reduced to charred husks by the Ironfang Clan’s pillage. Grendolf’s heart sank, expecting to find the cursed hybrid civilians slaughtered or enslaved. Instead, a strange sight greeted them: the villagers—still in their hairless, hybrid forms—stood in the square, unharmed, their eyes wide with awe. Aeloria cradled Tiro as he leaped from the wagon, her rune-stitched garments tattered but her spirit unbroken. Kaelis, the weaver, stepped forward, her voice trembling. “You’re alive… and you saved them. But something else saved us.”

Grendolf’s ears twitched, Starclaw humming. “What happened here?”

Aeloria gestured to the village’s edge, where Canid bodies lay strewn, their bone weapons shattered. “When the Ironfang Clan attacked, we were helpless, our cursed forms too weak to fight. Then… a shadow appeared. A knight, cloaked in darkness, wielding a blade that sang like the wind. It cut through the Canids, silent and swift, vanishing before we could speak.”

Sylvara’s tail flicked, skeptical. “A shadow knight? No one fights like that without a name.”

Kaelith’s eyes narrowed, its Mutated form tense. “I’ve heard whispers in the Blighted Lands. A rogue warrior, neither Cat nor Canid, opposing the Shroud. They call it the Shadow Knight, a ghost bound to no clan.”

Grendolf’s spirit-enhanced vision flared—a fleeting image of a cloaked figure, its blade gleaming with starlight, standing amid fallen foes. No face, no form, only a presence that felt ancient, tied to the Starwardens’ legacy. “Did it speak?” he asked.

Kaelis shook her head. “It only pointed north—toward the Abyss of Ruin—then faded into the smoke.”

Myra clutched her amulet, her voice small. “Was it a Starwarden? Like you, Grendolf?”

“Perhaps,” he murmured, Starclaw’s glow intensifying. The Shadow Knight’s intervention had saved Eldervale, but its motives were unclear. Was it an ally, or another player in the Shroud’s game?

Aeloria pressed a new vial of cleansing herbs into Grendolf’s hand. “For the curse. It’s all we have left. Whoever that knight was, it gave us a chance to rebuild. You must go to the Abyss—end the Toxinheart.”

Sylvara nodded, Bloodfang ready. “The Canids will regroup. Kravos won’t stop.”

Kaelith’s claw flexed, its voice firm. “The Shadow Knight struck at the Order’s allies. It’s on our side, at least for now. I’ll scout the path ahead—Canids and Mutated Ones guard the Abyss.”

Grendolf’s glowing eyes scanned the horizon, the Abyss’s toxic glow pulsing faintly. The Shadow Knight’s aid had spared Eldervale, but the war loomed larger. With Starclaw’s new powers and Kaelith’s loyalty, they had a chance. “We move north,” he said, his voice resolute. “For the kits, for Felaria, for answers.”

As the villagers began rebuilding, Grendolf led his group toward the Abyss, the Shadow Knight’s mystery lingering like a shadow itself. The Toxinheart awaited, and with it, the Shroud—and perhaps the truth of their enigmatic savior.